August 24th 20xx


Alex went off to war a couple months ago.  We have sent many letters back and forth since his departure.  Not seeing him everyday has been hard on me lately.  Recently he mush not be able to get a lot of writing done.  Sadly, the letter stream has slowed from about ten letters in a month to about three letters.  I shouldn’t be worried, but no matter what I try to do, the thought never seemed to leave my mind.



September 19th 20xx



Somebody knocked on my door today.  I had slowly opened the door.  When I looked up I met the eyes of pity from the soldiers in white.  I had held my breath until my lungs burned for oxygen. I had a feeling I knew what they were going to say.  I had hoped I was one hundred percent off on my estimate.  But I wasn’t.  They told me Alex passed away a few days prior to their visit.  I remember the salty tears making their trails down my face. Then they handed me something.  A letter.  My letter.  I had sent that about five days ago.  My knees had buckled, hitting the hard floor.  He never got to read my big news. I rubbed my stomach slowly, feeling the slight bump.

“He will never know.”


Tears started welling up in my eyes again. He never got to read my letter.

Looking around, I saw the letter sitting on the table, still un-opened.








( this is not a real story)




Thank you for reading.





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